Twinkle, Twinkle
by prone2dementia
Summary: Hollywood wants Alex. Alex, however, doesn't want Hollywood. It's like an abusive relationship, except without the help hotline. No pairings. Oneshot for JustAnotherParallelDimension.


_Dearest J, this is for you! Happy belated birthday! Happy holidays! Happy reading!_

* * *

Twinkle, Twinkle

"Next!"

Alex winced at the director's grating voice. Although Johann was brilliant—an Academy Award winner and "world-class", according to Sabina—he was downright obnoxious. Much too pushy for Alex's liking. In fact, the boy would have fled the other's presence if it weren't for Sabina.

At age seventeen, she was now Hollywood's newest icon, her face plastered everywhere from magazines to TV screens. She basked in all the attention, blooming like a rose in spring, and Alex was happy for her, truly. Unfortunately, her rise to stardom made it difficult for them to spend time together. Hollywood's constant scrutiny put Alex on edge, and the celebrity rumor mill was already generating gossip about him, even though they only knew two details of his life: He was British, and he knew Sabina Pleasure.

It seemed those tidbits were enough for the presses to go wild, though, and Sabina's attitude toward him didn't help matters. Since his arrival in Los Angeles, she'd refused to leave him alone. ("We don't hang out enough, Alex!") So she had dragged him everywhere, ignoring his complaints of being toted around like a purse. And that was how Alex had ended up here, at a casting session where he felt awkward and unglamorous, like a third-wheel lurking in the corner.

His stomach was beginning to growl, and he wasn't sure how long it had been. The movie producers were churning steadily through hopeful after hopeful, but they were getting nowhere in their search for the perfect counterpart to Sabina's character.

"He has to be perfect," they kept muttering amongst themselves. "None of these boys have It."

That was the way they spoke, vague and hushed. Personally, Alex couldn't see what was wrong with any of the try-outs, but he was certainly no expert. He supposed he couldn't blame the producers for wanting someone "perfect". After all, critics had already dubbed this movie as "the hottest of the year", and the viewers didn't want to be disappointed.

The whole process was terribly boring, however. By now, Alex could recite the few lines that each potential actor would get through before he would be stopped.

"I'm sorry," the casting director would say, and once the candidate disappeared out the door, Johann would moan about none of them having the right _finesse, _none of them being able to capture the _essence _of the male protagonist.

"William is supposed to be dispassionate," Johann was now saying to the current victim, "less eager and more wry. Don't try so hard, James! You have one more shot, starting from when he first meets Sabina. Or Caroline, rather."

James nodded his understanding, hands trembling visibly. Sabina shot him a comforting smile. A breath later, she was back in her character of a headstrong angel sent to earth.

"_What – _do you think you're doing?"

The boy opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His eyes widened as he began to panic, realizing that he'd forgotten the next line.

Alex wanted to tear his hair out. One more failed audition, and he would die of boredom. Why was this so hard for the wannabe actors, anyway? All they had to say was, "Thinking is overrated."

When every head in the room snapped toward Alex, he realized belatedly that he'd delivered the line aloud. He shrugged sheepishly at them and shrunk further into the shadows.

"Um, don't mind me..."

It was too late. A glint in Johann's eyes warned Alex of danger ahead.

"That was... perfect...," the man intoned slowly.

His words broke the stunned silence, and each judge suddenly began to enthuse over Alex.

"_Such _appropriate tone!"

"Look at the way he holds himself!"

"Why haven't we noticed him before?

"Try another line!"

The last suggestion became the consensus, and soon everyone was clamoring for Alex to audition. James was now nowhere to be seen, and Sabina was smirking with amusement.

Alex began sidling toward the exit. "I'm flattered, but I'm no actor."

"Nonsense!" Johann cried, much in the way that a royal would exclaim "silence".

"We should have realized you were talented from the moment you first came in with Sabina." This declaration was from an older lady, who wore too much lipstick.

"Thanks, but really, no thanks." Just a few more steps and Alex would be able to escape.

Johann's eyes narrowed. "But how can you turn down our offer? Sabina, talk some sense into this boy!"

Laughing, the actress shook her head. "I could try, but Alex is a lost case. He doesn't respond to sense."

"But...! Listen. Alex, right? Alex, this is your chance to be famous! To be a star!" Johann was probably trying to play the role of a concerned adult looking out for Alex's best interest, but his softened tone fell flat. For someone who spent so much time around performers, the man was terrible at acting himself.

"I'm not into fame, sorry."

None of the producers seemed capable of processing Alex's statement, and the boy took advantage of their dumbstruck states, diving for the door.

"I _am _into food, though, and I'm sort of hungry now, so if you'll excuse me..." The rest of his response disappeared after him.

Alex sighed with relief when he reached the safety of the hall, glad to have finally escaped the stifling audition room. He texted a brief apology to Sabina, asking to meet up with her when she was done, and then took the elevator to the first floor. It served as the lobby to one of Hollywood's most coveted studios, modern and sleek. A group of tourists infested the place, fawning over... Actually, Alex didn't know what they were fawning over. They just looked happy to be there.

He tried to skirt around them, but a woman in her thirties noticed him almost immediately.

"Ohmygod!" she exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention. "I recognize you! You're Sabina Pleasure's boyfriend!"

Alarmed, Alex stared back at her, wondering when his spy skills had deteriorated. Because how else would she have detected his presence?

(In reality, he shouldn't have been so hard on himself. They were in a confined space, she was a tourist who recognized her own kind and thus recognized the _other _kind, and his face had been earning a niche in recent media, despite MI6's protests. It was only inevitable that he'd be noticed.)

Finally, he managed to correct her politely. "I'm sorry, but Sabina and I aren't dating." And that was the truth. After a few half-hearted attempts at a romantic relationship last year, they had opted for friendship instead.

"But the tabloids—"

"Lie," Alex said simply. "I'm truly no one special."

He started to shoulder through the tourists that had flocked around him, but they seemed undeterred. One teenage girl thrust a notebook under his nose.

"Will you sign this for me?"

Abruptly, pens and paper pads were being jostled into Alex's face from every direction. The boy blinked, eyes darting from one eager face to another. This was too surreal, he thought. He wasn't a celebrity.

Eventually, he told the truth, "My handwriting's bad."

Silence reigned in the wake of Alex's unexpected answer, and the tourists stared blatantly, unaccustomed to the boy's particular brand of insanity. Who refused to give a signature because of bad handwriting, anyway? That was unheard of.

"Then take a picture with us!" came a sudden request from his left.

Another girl, Alex noted clinically. She was surrounded by her friends, who were beginning to stir restlessly.

"I'm not photogenic," he protested, the first fingers of claustrophobia slipping down his spine. He wasn't conditioned to react well with crowds. He needed to get away.

But just as the thought crossed him, a voice chimed over the din, "Oh, leave the poor boy alone."

The gathering divided to reveal the speaker, and Alex felt a wave of relief crash through him. "Sabina."

She grinned easily, a pretty smile lighting up her entire face. "How are you holding up?"

Alex glanced back at the crowd, registering their awestruck expressions, their eyes intent on both him and Sabina. "I'm not."

"Don't be so dramatic. That's my job."

Hearing the declaration, the tourists finally appeared to believe what they were seeing. They surged visibly, a flurry of limbs, each vying for the movie star's attention.

"Sabina Pleasure!"

"I'm your biggest—"

"—can't believe this is happening—"

"—best day of my—"

"—sign this for me?"

Alex, who would have preferred terrorists over tourists any day, found the situation to be absolutely _terrifying_. Conversely, Sabina was handling the fans with confidence, grace and poise. She'd obviously had a lot of practice. When the woman from earlier—the one completely faithful to the gospel of the tabloids—asked Sabina if she was dating Alex, the actress only laughed good-naturedly.

"Me and him?" Reaching over to ruffle Alex's hair like an affectionate older sister, she said, "He's, like, two! I'd be a cougar to date him!"

Rolling his eyes, Alex swatted the hand away. "If I were actually two, the correct term would be pedophile, not cougar."

Sabina winked at those around her, jokingly exasperated, and explained to Alex with exaggerated patience, "I wasn't being literal, silly."

The audience, captivated by their interactions, tittered in the background. They, as "average" people, seemed to find a celebrities' every action to be vastly interesting, and it wasn't the first time Alex had noticed this. He ignored them deftly, allowing Sabina to steer him away. Surprisingly, no one protested. Now that Sabina had filled her "accommodating celebrity" quota for the day, they were willing to let her go.

"There's a great diner around here," she said, once she and Alex were outside the studios. "Wanna have lunch there?"

"If the food costs more than my life, like it did last time, then no."

"That was one time, Alex!"

"One time too many."

Instead of answering, she merely snickered and led her companion down the street to a ramshackle structure. Its front sign proclaimed "Lindy's Diner" in faded blue font.

Despite its outward appearance, however, the diner food was actually delectable, and the atmosphere was like a welcome-home hug. So much of Hollywood was glitz and glamour that Alex relished the down-to-earth setting. Certain that Jack would like the place, he stored its address in a mental note. She was visiting her parents in D.C. at the moment, but once she joined Alex, he would make sure to take her here.

"I recommend the Steak Bomb," Sabina suggested as Alex studied the laminated, black and white menu.

He read over its description and nodded in agreement, giving his order to the overworked waitress. She jotted it down before breezing away, without a single comment about either teenager's fame. It was refreshing.

"So." Sabina leaned forward, elbows on the table and hands clasped together. "After you ran out on the producers, Johann was absolutely despondent."

Alex scoffed. "Then get him a psychiatrist."

Snorting at the boy's typical response, Sabina said around a smirk, "You're heartless. He wants you to audition so bad that he'd probably pay you to do it."

"Well, we can't always get what we want in life." Alex knew that better than anyone did. "It'll teach him some character."

"No one does 'character' in Hollywood, unless it's for a film. We're all selfish monsters."

"At least you're honest," said Alex lightly.

"Some of us might be, but the journalists..." She trailed off, her lips thinning into a serious line. "Alex, I've been meaning to ask—is the media coverage putting you at risk? Because, you know..."

Alex's eyes dropped to the dark blue tablecloth. For days now, he'd been trying to swallow his worries, but with just one comment from Sabina, they all came swelling up his throat.

"It's not like I can do anything about it." He lowered his voice, and his next words were heavy with allusion. "_They _have tried, but the media's unstoppable." Here, he laughed wryly. "It figures that the paparazzi would be the only ones more powerful than them."

Gnawing her lip, Sabina nodded. "A scary thought, true, but... Alex, you still haven't answered my question."

Only a few people in the world knew Alex well enough to recognize his avoidance techniques. Unfortunately, Sabina was one of them. He sighed.

"They did underestimate how much news coverage there would be about me, but if they really thought I was in any immediate danger, they would've pulled me out already."

"So you aren't in _immediate _danger."

"Yeah," he answered vaguely. When Sabina continued staring at him, he finally relented, "But the Deputy Director will be calling me tonight to debrief me about this. Is that good enough for you?"

She bristled, defensive. "I'm just worried about you, Alex."

"Don't be." _I'm worried enough for the both of us_.

. . .

That night, while waiting for Mrs. Jones' phone call in his hotel room, Alex channel surfed idly. Nothing really interested him until he caught sight of a familiar face. He froze, the remote slackening in his grip as he paused on a celebrity gossip show. Until this day, he'd never thought that two people and a couch could look so frightening.

"—found the perfect person to play this role!" the first person was exclaiming at his interviewer.

The interviewer smiled, flashing her row of perfect teeth. "And tell us, Johann, who is he?"

"Oh, you all know him as Sabina Pleasure's boyfriend. He's quite a charming boy, refreshingly true to himself."

"Really?"

"Yeah, not fake at all. He definitely doesn't pretend to be who he isn't."

"The way you're putting it, he sounds too good to be true!" That was paparazzi-speak for, "_Dish some dirt about him!_"

Johann obliged, but not in the way she was expecting. "Acutally, I think he does have one flaw. He lacks confidence in himself."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, even though he's so obviously suited to play William in _The Tale of Two Vanities_, he's actually declined! Can you believe that?"

The woman gasped dramatically, "No!"

Alex couldn't watch this any longer. Succinct movements belied his rage as he turned off the television, crossing to his phone. The person that he dialed picked up on the first ring.

"Alex," said Sabina, voice full of dread, "I know."

"When did you find out?" _Because if she'd known all along..._

"A few minutes ago, when Johann called me and told me to watch the entertainment news."

"That man," said Alex slowly, "is going to die."

Sabina emitted a strangled noise, torn between fear and amusement. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"I won't. But explain to me what he's trying to achieve." His words sounded too calm, even to himself.

"I'm guessing," the girl conjectured tentatively, "that he plans to have the media and public back him up when he pressures you into accepting the role."

"You say that like you think he's gonna win."

"I dunno, Alex. He doesn't give up easily."

"Neither do I. Besides, acting is completely out of the question for me. Not to mention I don't like it." The idea had been ruined for him by MI6. After all, his past life-or-death missions had depended many times on his acting skills.

"Well, I have an idea. Remember the charity event that I'd been talking about?"

"The one that I didn't want to go to?" Alex could sense Sabina wincing through the phone.

"Yeah, that one. It's tonight. If we go, you're bound to be asked about this, so you can tell them that you refuse to act, no matter what."

Weighing his options, Alex felt the onset of a headache. "Fine. I'll go."

"Great! Then I'll see you in an hour."

As soon as the call had ended, Alex's phone began ringing again. Perfect timing, he thought.

"Hello?"

"Alex, it's Mrs. Jones. I hope you're doing well." It was a meaningless pleasantry. "Unfortunately, I don't have much time, so I'll have to make this quick."

"Okay."

"First of all, we're tracking your situation very carefully. If anything arises, we'll pull you out straight away. Second, we've asked our counterparts at the CIA to provide you with guards. You should meet them at their Los Angeles Headquarters tomorrow..." She then gave him the specific details, allowing him time to memorize them.

"Is that all?" he said, when he was sure that everything was lodged in his brain.

"Yes." She paused before adding, "And Alex? Please don't do anything unwise."

"I won't."

They both hung up, and Alex deflated, feeling very heavy all of a sudden. It was time to get changed, though, and he had no time to waste.

The charity event was formal—Sabina had told him some days ago. He was now grateful for heeding Jack's advice to pack a suit. It was new and black, and settled very well across his shoulders. Sabina admired it when she arrived at his door.

"Fit," she said with a wink. Her own dress was teal and shimmery, reminding Alex of mermaids.

"You don't look too bad yourself."

He earned a smack for the comment, and his arm smarted during the entire car ride to their destination. Alex quickly forgot the pain, however, when they pulled up at a red carpet leading to the entrance of a Victorian style manor. He didn't even realize he was gaping until Sabina re-hinged his jaw with two manicured fingers.

She grinned at him. "Impressive?"

"...Is an understatement, I'll admit."

"Wait until you see the inside." With that, she kicked him out of their limousine.

The camera flashes began instantly, accompanying the shouts. Praying that he didn't look like an idiot, Alex stepped gingerly down the carpet, and Sabina joined him shortly.

She looped their arms together and hissed, "Smile!"

Alex tried his best, avoiding eye contact with the fans queued behind the barricades. Halfway down the walk, he and Sabina were accosted by a woman in dangerously high heels.

"Sabina Pleasure! And is this who I think he is?"

"I dunno, Morgan. Who do you think he is?" Sabina's smile was wide, appearing genuine to those who didn't know her as well as Alex did.

"Well, darling, everyone's been saying that he's your boyfriend!"

If possible, the actress' smile grew even wider. "Really?" She sent Alex a sidelong glance. "He _is _ridiculously handsome, isn't he?"

Morgan nodded enthusiastically, while Alex wanted nothing more than to find a hole and lie in it. And never come back out.

"However," continued Sabina, "everyone's assumption about our relationship is false. We're just friends."

"Is that so?" The woman looked to Alex, who realized with a jolt that she wanted his thoughts. "Care to add your opinion?"

Taking a calming breath, he met her squarely in the eyes. "My opinion is that people should focus less on celebrity love lives and more on problems like world hunger."

She blinked. For the first time in her entire career, she was left speechless.

Alex capitalized on the opportunity. "Also, for anyone wondering, I am not an actor, and I don't ever plan to become one. Thank you."

Quite obviously, the reporter wouldn't be recovering her speech faculties any time soon. Sharing identically amused expressions, Alex and Sabina slipped away.

Since the boy refused to pose for pictures, they both entered the manor without further delay. It was gorgeous, dressed with lush greens and burnished golds. Ushers along the hallways directed them to a spacious ballroom, already occupied by mingling celebrities, flitting about like butterflies. Several flew to Sabina's side as she entered, greeting her zealously. One of them stood out from the rest.

"Sab, you came!" The speaker, whom Alex guessed to be nineteen or twenty, expressed a happiness that fizzed with sincerity.

"'Course I came!" A halcyon blush spread over Sabina's cheeks at the attention, and Alex noted the reaction duly. It seemed that someone had a crush. "The event's for a good cause."

"I didn't know you were a champion for Hodgkin's."

"Well, I mostly advocate for abuse victims, but it never hurts to show support for other causes."

"I agree completely." The man's smile matched Sabina's in caliber, attesting that he reciprocated her crush. Alex could smell the potential romance from a mile away and was wondering if he should give them some alone time when Sabina remembered his presence.

"Oh, Alex! Let me introduce you to Andrew Brighton. I met him a few weeks ago. He's a star on the show, Modern Lives. Just smile, nod and pretend like you've heard of it."

"Nice to meet you." Alex extended a handshake, studying the man before him critically. Andrew wore a sleek suit and had hazel eyes that twinkled under the chandelier lights. That was something Alex had noticed about celebrities: their eyes twinkled perpetually, and sometimes it was hard to separate the sinister ones from the respectable ones. _Well, _thought Alex, _there was no use in beating around the bush._ "You should know that I'll be the one beating you up if you ever hurt Sabina."

Although she blushed even harder, the actress succeeded in saying mock-seriously, "Don't underestimate him. He really can."

Andrew stared, looking as if he didn't know whether it would be appropriate to laugh.

"Of course, we're having this conversation a bit ahead of schedule," Alex informed the star, deadpan. "First, you'll have to get up the guts to ask her out."

"...Are you always like this?" the man finally inquired.

"Only on the days ending in 'y'."

"Then... I think we're going to get along," Andrew replied, his smile returning.

"Excellent!" said Sabina, relief evident on her face. "You guys talk while I go find us some drinks. I'm_ parched_."

She disappeared into the growing throng, leaving the other two by themselves.

Andrew turned back to Alex after watching Sabina go. "So I take it that you aren't big on Hollywood?"

"What do you mean?" asked Alex.

"For one, you haven't popped up in the media until recently, even though it's obvious you and Sabina are old friends. For another, you seem to have no clue what Modern Lives is."

He was observant, Alex remarked. "I'm guessing it's yet another ridiculously popular show about young people going through drama*."

"Too right you are," Andrew agreed. "I'll admit it's pretty shallow. Lately, I've been trying to branch out into more...meaningful things."

"Meaningful?"

"Yeah, movies that actually make you _think, _y'know?"

"To be honest, I don't have much time for movies."

Andrew laughed. "Okay, let me rephrase it: movies like the type that Sabina has been in."

"Oh." Now Alex understood. Always continually nominated for awards, Sabina's films were described as pieces of art, powerful and fresh.

"Yeah, I've always admired her guts. She isn't scared of taking risks, trying something edgy," said Andrew, his eyes faraway.

"Is that why you like her?"

Abashment quickly replaced the man's dreamy expression. "That's one of the reasons, yes."

Alex was about to reply when he suddenly heard a crash, followed by screaming. His gaze whipped to the source. Near the far wall, glass shards littered the floor, glittering beneath the gaping hole that had been smashed into a French window. As three masked men emerged from the opening, celebrities scattered away in panic. Alex frowned. Why did this stuff always happen to him? Making a quick decision, he began pushing toward the chaos.

Behind him, Andrew was calling out, "Wait! What are you—" But the words were soon lost in the din.

Closer now, Alex was able to survey the situation without anything obstructing his view. The attackers were armed and all dressed in black. Their leader was tall and wiry, his voice booming over the crowd.

"Ladies and gentleman, this is a robbery. I, Marvin, will be your host for the night. Please be cooperative, or I'll be forced to shoot you."

A flair for dramatics, the teenager observed. Something about so-called Marvin's bravado seemed _wrong _to Alex.

In the meantime, one of Marvin's minions had grabbed a hostage, holding her still with his gun. Realizing her identity, Alex felt something dangerous stir inside him.

It was Sabina. She had been struggling to flee with the rest of the celebrities when she'd been seized. Her eyes were fearful now, as Marvin spoke to the congregation, telling them that their cell phones wouldn't be working for the night.

"A good friend of mine was able to make this a temporary dead zone for signals, so no help will be coming tonight, no siree!" Despite his mask, it was obvious that Marvin was grinning. "And we've taken the liberty of drugging the security. They simply made it _too _easy for us by dining in the same place."

Confident, boastful, smart. With each word, Alex was able to piece together more of the leader's psychological profile. His actions, too, contributed to Alex's assessment. The boy wasn't blind to the way Marvin waved around his gun carelessly, as if it didn't have real bullets. At the thought, Alex paused, abruptly realizing why the man's bravado bothered him. Marvin was no doubt an intellectual—but a killer? Alex didn't think so. It was now clear what he needed to do.

Disarming an opponent was easy with the right technique. Diffusing a dangerous situation was easy with the element of surprise. Alex had both, and in a matter of moments, he took careful inventory of each man's position, then barreled toward the one without a hostage. He maneuvered the gun away, knocking the man unconscious and hoisting him up as a shield.

There was silence. Though most of the people in the room experienced movie-like situations on a regular basis, none of them had ever experienced one like this—in _real life_.

Marvin was the first to recover from the shock. "Do you have a death wish, boy?"

Alex smiled calmly, thoughtfully weighing the gun in his hands. "Marvin, I know your secret. Now, I think it all comes down to who's faster at shooting."

The answer made no sense to the celebrities, but it had an impressive effect on Marvin, who began trembling visibly. He didn't say anything for a long time, and the tension soon became too much for Sabina.

"What are you doing, Alex?" she burst out, her voice echoing through the ballroom.

Alex was still smiling. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course not," scoffed the girl, "but that's not gonna make a difference, is it?"

"Fair enough," said Alex, and then he shot her.

Blood blossomed over the front of her dress as she collapsed, boneless. Before anyone could react, two more shots went off, and each of the remaining robbers crumpled, joining Sabina on the floor.

There was more silence, until an exclamation punctured the air.

"Did you just_ kill _her?" Andrew demanded of Alex, his tone raw and sickened. He hurtled out of the crowd to kneel beside Sabina, and a murmur stirred through their audience. The celebrities were beginning to awaken from their trance, and they wanted answers.

"Andrew," Alex said evenly, with the sort of authority that made everyone hush once more. "She isn't dead. She's tranquilized." He nodded at the gun in his hand. "This didn't have real bullets in it."

"Then why is she bleeding?" The other appeared unconvinced.

"She isn't. None of them are." Stepping forth to one of the robbers, Alex peeled back the stained shirt. Where there should have been a wound, the skin was left unmarked. "It was all part of the Hollywood special effects."

. . .

The morning sun was streaming into Sabina's hospital room. Alex had spent the night there, dozing on one of the chairs as he waited for Sabina to awaken, and now he had a crick in his neck. Suffice to say, he was not in a good mood, and the girl was doing nothing to help.

A stack of tabloids was piled neatly beside her, and she giggled as she pored over each and every article involving Alex. "Oh, listen to this one!" She ignored the boy's groan of protest, reading aloud, "_The fiasco at last night's charity event may seem to have come straight from a Hollywood film, but despite the number of stars in attendance, the true hero of our story is a boy who could not have cared less about fame. Alex Rider, sixteen, is the rumored boyfriend of actress Sabina Pleasure. Both deny such allegations, however, and when asked about them, the boy commented candidly that 'people should focus less on celebrity love lives and more on problems like world hunger'._

"_If he seems too good to be true, just wait for the next part of our tale..._ And then there are some boring details, blah, blah, blah... Oh! Here we go: _Alex managed to overpower one of the attackers, stripping the man of his gun, and his next actions stunned the entire room. He asked Ms. Pleasure if she trusted him, and when she replied, he proceeded to shoot her. Her collapse provided him with a clear aim at the hostage takers, and Alex made quick work of the remaining men. It was obvious that he knew how to shoot, and none of them had any time to react._

"_Then, with complete composure, Alex announced that the gun he'd used didn't have real bullets. The people he had shot were merely tranquilized. And he was right._

"_How had he known that the guns were fake? He claims to have followed a hunch. According to him, even though the heist leader had a flair for dramatics—'like everyone else in Hollywood'—he didn't have a psychological profile that fit a killer's. Alex had suspected the robbery was more for fame than it was for fortune. It was all an act for attention, for a place in both media and history, and the robbers had never planned to hurt anyone. Police experts now agree with Alex on his surprisingly accurate assessment... _Actually, I've been wondering. How _did_ you know that the guns were fake?"

"I didn't. It was a hunch, like I said. But when I got a hold of one of the guns, I could tell that the balance was off. It was too heavy for a gun of its size. Then I went ahead and checked the ammunition."

"Hmm, why am I not surprised?" Sabina rolled her eyes and picked up where she had left off, "_That leaves us with the question of how Alex had guessed the men's motivations, how he had secured one of the guns, how he had confirmed that the gun was actually fake, and how he had hit his targets with only one shot each. This author is left wondering if he is secretly a Double-O-Seven. __Of course, we'll never know."_

"Damn right," Alex muttered under his breath, once Sabina had finished. He lifted his face from where it had been buried in his hands and sent her a glare. "No more articles, _please_."

"It's only fifteen minutes of fame," she assured him with a giggle. "People will forget about this eventually."

"They better." Checking the clock, he sighed and stood up. "I have to go. My car should be here now."

She cheerfully said goodbye, calling after him, "Don't forget your sunglasses!"

He wondered vaguely what she meant, but was distracted when he ran into a familiar person in the hall. Andrew. He was obviously here to see Sabina.

They stared at each other awkwardly, until the actor offered a tentative smile. "I guess you weren't joking when you said you could beat me up if I hurt Sabina."

"You've got that right." Alex returned the smile, and the awkwardness dissipated.

"So where are you off to?"

"The airport, actually. After everything that's happened, I've decided to cut my visit short."

"Oh." Surprise was diffusing over Andrew's face. "Well, it was nice meeting you. Have a safe trip—and don't forget your sunglasses!"

As the man clapped him on the back and started off, Alex found himself struck dumb by the offhanded comment. The sunglasses thing again? He wanted to ask Andrew to explain, but the celebrity was already gone. Confused and sensing that he was missing something important, Alex continued down the hall.

When he finally exited the hospital, his epiphany hit him with a cacophony of shouts.

"Alex Rider—!"

"Can you tell us—"

"—your actions have been—"

"—hero to the masses—"

"—the world is in love—"

"—everybody wants to know!"

This was too much. Too much noise and too many people. Alex felt himself beginning to panic, blinded by the camera flashes and wishing that he'd heeded the celebrities' advice. Overwhelmed by the swarm of reporters, he took a step back. Someone's arm snaked around him then, thrusting a microphone into his face, and he reached his breaking point.

His next move would be talked about for ages to come, but in truth, it was simple, not flashy at all. He simply grasped the arm attached to the microphone and twisted. The result was a pained gasp, and the aggressive reporter crumbled to his knees in front of Alex. Everyone fell silent, astonished by what they'd just witnessed.

"I'd appreciate some personal space," said Alex, and a ripple greeted his words. The paparazzi parted. "Thanks."

He smiled blandly, giving them a pleasant nod as he crossed the proverbial Red Sea. A dark car idled at the curb in front of him, and Alex checked the license number. Satisfied that he recognized it, he ducked in.

The driver was a hardened CIA agent, his face square and his smile rare. Expert in the field of protection, he had worked many years and was regarded as the best of the best. A complete professional.

Upon Alex's entrance, he swiveled around, eyes serious. "You're going to sign something for me." Alex could feel his jaw slackening as the man continued flatly, "My daughter is more obsessed with you than she is with Justin Bieber."

He shoved pen and paper at Alex, and the boy stared, trying to breathe. _It's only fifteen minutes of fame_, he told himself firmly, ignoring the fact that his identity had just caused a professional to break protocol. _Only fifteen minutes of fame_.

(He didn't know what awaited him back in England.)

Fin.

* * *

*This is a mangled quote taken from Talionyzero.

Happy Holidays, everyone! I'd appreciate if you can point out any mistakes, and I'll gladly accept presents in the form of reviews! ;D


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